Manorexic
by Holly Rose E
Summary: Ch4: I wasn’t thin enough, no one could ever love me. At least, that’s what I told myself, until I got landed here. TaitoAU.
1. Chapter 1: 4st 7lbs

Manorexic  
By: Holly Rose E.  
Summary: If I wasn't thin enough, no one could ever love me. At least, that's what I told myself, until I got landed here. Taito.  
Rating: T right now, but could go up, depending.  
Warnings: Language, self-destructive habits, mashochism...

* * *

Chapter One: 4st7lbs.  
_I want to walk in the snow  
__And not soil its purity  
-_Manic Street Preachers

'_I think I threw up on him_'.

His brow furrowed as he vainly tried to place when it had happened; but, it's not as if it truly mattered, he was never going to see the boy again. It was disheartening to think that the final straw for his parents would be him throwing up – by accident, mind you – on some random guy he didn't even know.

Well, he sort of knew him. Didn't know his name or where he lived or what he liked to do and _who_ he liked to do, but knew him by face. The boy went to his school, sat a few rows down in grammar class. Not that it matters.

He had thrown up on him, and now he was being wheeled down a long corroding hallway at one of the oldest buildings he'd ever laid eyes on. He was in nothing but a white gown with no back so that everyone could see his huge ass hanging out if he were to stand up. The nurse hadn't shut up yet. She had bright neon pink hair and even brighter purple eyes and kept yammering away in her very much soprano voice.

"This is where you'll be eating when you get enough points. As in, when you do ever eat," she giggled trilly, and a nearby bird cried out in dismay, "But, then, over there you have the pool and the exercise equipment, but I doubt you'll ever get there. And the shower stalls are on the other side of those rooms, but it may be awhile before you get any privacy. Many anorexics try anything to stay skeleton-y the first few weeks or so, even months. But, you'll like food again within no time just as soon as you give our wonderful 'nana pudding a try!" She twittered again.

_'Definitely threw up on him, I think I can remember his reaction'_, but that didn't really help him, because it was more of a remainder than a memory. He lifted a slight hand to his face, lightly touching the bruise that crowned his left eye. '_Maybe... maybe he thought I needed it, to be...'_

"Oh, so pretty!" She clutched his shoulder and he bit his lip in a grimace, she was much too violent. "Do you see, do you see? This is what one of your new buddies made!"

To his slight right, was a large painted portrait of a strange blue animal, shielded with fiery red armor and claws protruding. He could nearly see the ripple and strain of muscle in the animal's hind legs. His eyes were alight, angrily... protectively. Behind him stood a shadowy figure that was cowering, weak hands gripping onto a thigh for support. He couldn't make out the latter person – if, perhaps, that's what it was – but his heart went out, as if he could see agonized eyes.

"Hmm... let's see now, I think... no..." She stopped pushing him suddenly, and he jerked slightly forward. He turned his head around to glare at her, but she paid no notice as she got out her papers. "Third floor," she frowned at the paper, "Well..." her eyes flicked back up to him, studying his ghostly form, "I suppose you are rather in need of third floor..."

His eyes widened, and tried to sneer at her to put her back in her place. How dare she suggest that he needed help. It was the people like her that hung around that made it so hard for him to find his perfection. To attain the immaculate beauty that he knew he could be; it was their muddled perceptions that restrained him. They refused, because they were scared of anyone being so pretty.

_'Fear is weak_.'

"What is it about the third floor?" He tried to snarl at her, but she just grinned at him largely.

"You have such a lovely voice!"

Typical, she was just like another fangirl. Her eyes lit up and he irrationally thought for a moment she was going to swoop down and kiss him. "Third floor is pretty extreme, but it could be worse. You could be in the west building, but you don't want to go there!"

He supposed the words were meant to be intimidating, but it was hard to be even the slightest worried with her sing-song voice and the trembling giggle at the back of her throat constantly wanting to spring out and say hello to the world.

_'He was kind of cute though... bit of a shame'_. He picked at the gown agitatedly, wishing he had his own clothes. He was freezing against the metallic bars of the chair, and his butt kept sticking to the leather seat. He shifted, grimacing at the telltale _schiiick_ of his derriere un-sticking, as they entered an elevator shaft.

"This is where I'll be letting you go," she said, voice hovering closely around his neck, "After I show you you're room, I think you've got a good twenty or so minutes before your first one-on-one."

"Oh thank _god_, I don't think I could stand being alone for so long," he mocked her voice, making his chords quiver with his own sarcastic laugh.

Rolling his eyes at the fore-guessed tinkle of laughter, he put his face in his hands, "You're never alone when you're here, Yamato, everyone is your friend!"

The doors opened, and Yamato looked up at the sudden loud voices that were screeching at each other.

_'Hell isn't a lonely, fiery place. Hell is where the people never shut up... or apparently bathe_.'

* * *

Closing Author's Note: Whew. :wrings hands nervously: I haven't written any Digimon in about 3 years now... hope it's better than before. Please review, I love good criticism! 


	2. Chapter 2: Pretty

Manorexic  
By: Holly Rose E.  
Rating: T  
Thank You's to: JyouraKoumi, seal-chan, InfynitiStar, minnermon, Katten and ShadowedHearts. Thank you, thank you! You were my motivation!

* * *

Chapter Two: Pretty  
_You're so pretty  
__Could I get the nerve?  
--_Kidneythieves

"Give it back, damn it!"

"I want my _fucking_ clothes back!"

"Taichi, make him give it back!"

"Not till I get my clothes back, you butt-fuck."

"Rei, give it back."

"Not till I get my -."

"SHUT UP!"

The nurse blinked above him, as if surprised at her own outburst. She smiled largely and tipped her head to the side, and began to giggle. "Rei, give Daisuke-chan his clothes back."

There were more then fifteen boys in the common area, but most of them didn't look up at any point during the outburst. They sat, either watching the small, black and white TV that was speckled with static, or reading old, tattered books – half of which were upside-down. There was one boy who had been fist-fighting in the air, as if he would be able to control them like a puppet. He mumbled under his breath, and look quite put-out when the nurse had yelled.

"Now, Yamato," she said, "Let's go to your room, I know you're just about to burst from excitement, I can tell!"

She must have been referring to his red coloring – he was horrified at the prospect of having to remain in this... this... _loony bin_ until some crackpot or another decided he was "healthy". Psh, as if they knew anything about healthy – the whole lot of them were fat, always pigging out on doughnuts as much as the police they pretend to either loathe or trip over their feet about. Yet, because they had a silly degree they loved to showcase, they were considered the End-All-Be-All source of endless knowledge.

"Good morning, Kyoko," a boy sidled up next to them as the nurse began to wheel him down what seemed the longer of the two diverging corridors. The boy had a shock of green hair, matted down and greasy-looking. His eyes didn't seem to quite focus when he looked at her.

"Why, hello there Akira! How did it go last night?"

Akira startled as he finally noticed Yamato, thrusting a pink tongue out to run over his thin lips a few times, "Hey, man," he grabbed Yamato's knees, "Don't let 'im stick it up your ass, man. Those needles _hurt_, no matter how soft they look!"

Kyoko smacked Akira's hands off of Yamato, "Akira, what have we told you?"

"It went fine, Kyoko-san." He answered her first question, looking past her at something else. "I think I'm going to go get Pooh Bear." He walked past, patting Yamato atop his head – who growled loudly – and haphazardly swayed down the hallway, knocking into a few people on his way.

Kyoko giggled as she once again began to move him, "Don't mind him. As long as he's got his Pooh, he's fine. Pooh is his red stuffed penguin. He sure does love that thing. The last occupant of his room left it there and Akira decided to adopt it. He's like a two-year-old, it's so very cute."

Yamato merely crossed his arms in response, tipping his nose up into the air in his normally seen haughty way. _Of all the absurdities..._ Though he wouldn't admit it, he was growing more worried about the state of his roommate. _Please let him be clean. Please, please, please let him have a regular bathing schedule of at **least** every other day_.

"This will be your room, Yamato," she said, turning into a room.

"Where's - ."

"Not allowed with your roommate. Maybe if you both accumulate enough Merit Points, you can get your door back!"

His eye twitched involuntarily.

The room was in a state of utter disarray, two beds on either side. One was clean and bare, with a random yellowish stain here and there on the mattress. Clean sheets laid neatly on an old, wooden chair that faced sideways from a desk. There was a metal rack with hangers there, which was to be his make-shift closet. On the other side, the bed was rumpled with a load of random clothes strewn. A heavy Mexican-style blanket was laid onto the floor, surrounded by Leggos – it seemed a masterpiece had recently been demolished. The other rack was also bare, except for a lone pair of boxers hung over the metal bar.

"I bet you can't guess which side is yours!" Kyoko giggled behind her hand.

He did notice, though, with some relief, that there was a dividing curtain that he could pull. Ah, the first – and quite possibly the only – sign of hope he'd had so far.

Kyoko's pager beeped, "Oh, what lovely timing! Make yourself at home, dear, but make sure you're on time for your Session in about 15 or so minutes." With that, she left in a flurry of pink hair and grey sweats.

Sighing with his head in his hands, Yamato tried to convince himself that somehow, just somehow in a Ultra-Evil Psychedelic Alternate Universe, it could be worse. He didn't know how, nor did he dare imagine how, that I could be worse... but it always could be.

So says the ever-optimists who always have a breakdown, and always the worst ones.

"You know, they do give you your clothes back once you eat at least three meals straight. And enough to their liking," said a voice from behind him.

Yamato resisted the urge to scream an obscenity at him, and turned around slightly in his chair. Behind him stood a tan boy with the worst mop of chocolate-brown hair he'd ever seen. Thin arms wrapped around his waist and an innocent face with mahogany hair peeking from under the older boys arm.

"Hi!" Cinnamon-boy said. "My name's Daisuke, and this here is Tai!" He turned his head so that he could look up at the aforementioned Tai. "You're lucky - you get to move in with Taichi-sempai!" He giggled like an infatuated schoolgirl, and squeezed Tai tight before releasing him and walking around so that Yamato wouldn't have to turn his head uncomfortably.

Taichi slowly made his way around and sat on his own bed, brushing lightly at the slight amount of bed sheet visible.

"Don't mind, Tai, they're going to up his dosage today, so he'll be himself in no time."

"That defeats the purpose," Yamato said, smuggling a sardonic laugh back down his throat.

Daisuke leaned in close, hands behind his back clasped. He smiled brightly, "How so?"

"Being medicated makes you somebody you're not. So if they're actually _increasing_ a dosage, they're making him even farther from his 'real' self." Yamato turned to look at Taichi, who was looking at him intensely. His dark eyes only got darker as they continued to look at him.

"Do you need any help unpacking?" Daisuke reverted Yamato's attention back to him again. "It wouldn't be any trouble," he smiled in an almost endearing manner, his hand extended to the blonde to help him up.

Yamato looked at the helping hand, back up to the face with the almost Chibi-like grin and back to the hand. He closed his eyes and smirked, standing by himself without any regard to Daisuke. He turned to his bed and stretched, not caring if they could see his large rump peeking through. He was here for loonies, and if they really wanted to stare at his grotesque body, then let them. Make them stay here longer.

He heard someone behind him leave the room, and someone else approach.

"You know, you're not as beautiful as you think you are."

The _nerve!_ Yamato whirled around, prepared to chew the person out that, no, thank you, he did _not_ think himself pretty even in the slightest, but choked on his own words as he saw Taichi's eyes and his body.

"Not nearly as pretty as _you_, right?" he sneered.

Taichi smiled, and put a hand behind his head, scratching nervously. "That's not what I meant, I just meant to say that..."

"Drop it," Yamato said. He glared, eyes becoming – if possible – even colder than they already were. "You've no room to talk of beauty...Taichi-sempai," he mocked.

Taichi dropped his hand, this time just cocking his head to look at Yamato closer. "I bet you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"I think you are," Taichi smiled. He looked up over Yamato's shoulder, and grabbed his hand. "C'mon, it's time for your one-on-one. I'm right next door, so we can see each other when we're going to lunch. I'm not allowed in the cafeteria, either!"

Yamato yanked his hand out of the other boy's grasp, but followed all the same. _Kami-sama... no more here than I absolutely have to_.

* * *

Closing Notes: sorry it was so boring, but it should be picking up here soon! 


	3. Chapter 3: Buried Alive

Manorexic  
By: Holly Rose E.  
Rating: T  
Thank You's To: JyouraKoumi, InfynitiStar, x1-TaKeN-oVeR, minnermon, Mrs.Ishida-to-you, Tamika DanarDraco, Sovereign of Silence3

* * *

Chapter Three: Buried Alive  
I ate the spine of Atlas  
Now the world is crushing me  
_Otep_

"So, Yamato, how are you liking it here so far?"

Long, smooth, tanned legs crossed delicately at the ankles. An itchy-looking plaid skirt hugged thighs and hips perhaps a little too tightly for work, and a summery flower blouse hugged her torso like a baby does to his mother's finger. Auburn eyes stared empathically, as a slender hand brushed away a stray strand of coppery hair.

Yamato immediately disliked her.

She smiled at his silence, not at all disconcerted, and leaned forward a little bit. "You know, it might seem like a big deal to make small chat, but really..."

He cut her off briskly, "Do you always dress like that?"

She blinked, his first utterance in nearly the twenty minutes that they'd been here. Sessions normally ran an hour, but because this was his first day she had decided he didn't need any more 'stress' for the day, so they cut the time in half. But, she decided, at least he's said something, however smugly.

"Sometimes I wear pants."

"Just as tight?"

She cocked her head slightly, and tried not to fidget. "Not normally, no. Why?"

"You look like you're trying to be somebody you're not. You're a doctor, not a playboy wannabe pin-up. Don't dress as if you have a body that kills and stupefies men's brains. You don't, and usually, people aren't that interested in seeing bodies as nearly as much as they like to proclaim. We're all prudes, and if somebody says otherwise, they're in a state of utter delusion." He stated all of this calmly enough, with only a little shard of ice in his eyes. "I think people become nymphos because they want to forget how ugly their own bodies are and immerse themselves in another's. Some become voyeurs because they like to see what they could never be, for better or worse. Some others, though, just shut down and refuse to see skin and arms and fat and stomach because it's disgusting."

He clenched his lips into a pale, straight line and stood up, all the essence of aloofness, although his butt had stuck to the leather seat of the couch and made that awful noise again. "Good day, Takenouchi-san."

He made his way over to the door, and she merely watched him go with an apprehensive curiosity. "Yamato," she said carelessly as his hand brushed the doorknob, "Beauty is always rearranged whenever an eye falls upon it. Ugly things are beautiful, and sometimes the most beautiful things are the ugliest."

He smirked at her, giving her his worst look – a sneer with full ice in his eyes at out of one half of his face – and opened the door and briskly stepped out.

"Yama-kun!"

His eye twitched and he immediately lashed out at the speaker. He stood trembling, clenching and unclenching the first he'd just nearly broken against the wall. Daisuke crouched on the ground, eyes wide and hands above his head. "Whoa, hey, I guess they haven't drugged you yet!"

"Y-y-you..." He couldn't seem to get control of himself again, "Don't call me that!" He exploded, a lock of hair falling out of place to tickle his ear, which he very agitatedly nearly yanked out as he brushed it back. "My name is Ishida Yamato and I do _not_ have an eating disorder!"

Startled at himself, he cried out in rage and stomped back to his room. His very _door-less_ room. His very cluttered, obnoxiously filled, tripping-on-leggos room.

He sat on his bed, closed his eyes, crossed his legs and arms and tried to stop the vein in his forehead from twitching so much. He never lost control like that; he never, ever, _ever_ lost control like that.

"Um... Yamato?"

Oh of all the rotten... He opened his eyes to glare at the dark-red-haired boy who was leaning around the doorway nervously. Daisuke grinned widely and decided to come into the room, without being invited nor without any sign that Yamato wasn't going to try and crack his skull in again.

"I just wanted you to know," Daisuke shuffled his feet in what was an attempt to look cute, "That... that you'd better be nice to Taichi-sempai!" He struck a pose, stars in his eyes as he tried to continue, "Taichi-sempai is the most wonderful guy ever and -."

"Shut up." Yamato nearly sighed it, "Please, just... shut up."

Daisuke bit his lip, and was awkward for a total of three seconds. "You know, you can eat lunch with me and Taichi-san, if you want... I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind."

"No, than-."

"Wonderful!" Daisuke chirped, "I insist. I'll let Taichi know to come pick you up for lunch, it'll be wonderful!"

He ran over to quickly pat Yamato's knees gaily, before scurrying out of the room before Yamato could even register the events. When he did, he growled again and mumbled under his breath the worst sort of curses he knew – mostly from his own father.

His father...

_I can't make it home tonight_

_You're gonna be on your own_

_I'm sorry_

_I have to go, I can't stay_

_I really can't_

He laid on his bed and rolled over, stuffing his face into his pillow to try to suffocate the cries. The worst part of crying, he thought, is the telltale signs it always leaves behind. Sniffling, he traced his palms over his hipbones, relishing in their sharpness... _But there's... still too much..._ he thought dismally, which only intensified his mood.

The ball rose in his throat, screaming beneath the surface to be let free, it strangled him from the inside out and he tried to refute it, tried to say 'NO!' as loud as he could, but he just couldn't help it.

He sobbed miserably into his pillow, hating himself all the more for being so weak in his emotions.

&&&

To the left wing, down two flights of stairs and behind closed-tight doors, Taichi Yagami screamed and screamed and screamed.

He screamed until he started to cough up blood.

And his therapist was proud of him.

Told him he was finally getting healthy.

Told him he was finally getting better.

Told him he was finally getting closer to being happy.

Taichi was getting better.

Or at least, he was getting better at getting what he needed. He surreptitiously slipped a safety pin into the inside of his tight sleeves when he reached over to shake the therapist's hand. He was going to be better.

New roommate be damned.

* * *

Closing Comments: Please review, I'd really appreciate! Constructive criticism is always a plus! 


	4. Chapter 4: The Perfect Fit

Manorexic  
By: Holly Rose E.  
Rating: T  
Thank You's:  
A/N: Any hurtful or stereotypical things mentioned in this fic are not meant to be so, I myself have dealt with many of the issues presented in this story, so please take no offense to them. I am merely expressing opinions of which I've encountered many times.

* * *

Chapter Four: ThePerfect Fit  
Hello, I'm good for nothing  
Will you love me just the same  
--- _Dresden Dolls

* * *

_ Taichi walked down the hallways, breathing with forced, ragged gasps as he struggled not to stagger all over the place. He placed a hand along the way, trailing his fingers slightly behind him. His eyes scanned all that he saw, but never was able to take in anything. 

When he closed them, and really thought about it, some days he could still feel the wind on his face from that last game he played in. The last game that he had done well in, and had scored that point...he helped them win. He was a winner.

But as soon as the darkest brown opened up to the unsightly hellish nightmare, he knew he couldn't escape reality, no matter how insane he drove himself to be. He was in a decades old manor that wasn't well-kept, and desperately needed refurbishing but all the money was going to the head-doctors. There were bars on the windows, steel doors leading to the outside world. He never was able to earn enough merit points to wander outside the walls, only to the garden in the center of the circular building.

_(Hey, pretty-boy, wanna have some fun with my hot rod?)_

_(Damn it, Yagami, try harder!)_

He turned the corner for the last stretch to his room, hand gripping onto the stolen object, if he held it a certain way, there was a pleasant pinch from the metal. He licked his lips nervously, although no one in the activity room was really paying attention to him, they all were too busy freaking out on their own.

"Taichi!" Akira startled from his seat, but Taichi paid him no mind. He just continued to walk and at first it seemed like Akira was going to follow. But another boy bashed him atop the head and so Akira had to beat him with Pooh Bear.

Three more doors, then... paradise. His eyelids drooped in anticipation for a moment as his pace slowed, breathing deeper now. When he opened his eyes again, he was staring into those of Daisuke.

The younger boy grinned, hand behind his head, "Didn't mean to startle you, Taichi-sempai. I was just waiting so I could tell you that I thought Yamato should eat with us, today."

"Yamato?" His voice was like that of a slow, turbulent landslide, it cracked and hissed behind chapped lips.

"You're new roommate," eyebrows fitted together neatly, "You okay?"

Taichi nodded distractedly, before grinning brightly. "Lemme just get my things all cleared up so we can head down for food!" He feigned excitability well, he had been doing it for so long. Daisuke gave him a very quick hug around his waist before dashing off.

When Taichi entered his room

_(their room)_

he paid no mind to the prone figure lying limply on the opposite bed, still without the sheets made. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he practically tiptoed towards his bed.The day was stilland he wished it was nighttime, for the sun filtering in through the barred windows only made him further feel like a prisoner.

He wished more than ever that he had shoes on when he stepped down painfully one a sharp-edged Leggo. He bit his lip harshly, and once the unwanted pain became wanted, he sighed deeply, and dropped his head tiredly. He took another step or twobefore gingerly sitting on his bed – it had a tendency to creak more often than not.

As he sat, his fist unclenched for the first time in nearly ten minutes and his hand screamed out at him as he did so. He picked the safety pin up, staring in an almost quizzical way at the imprint in his palm as he did so. Unlatching it became an almost religious procedure, in the way he moved languidly, slowly, as if that if he were too move too fast or not savor the moment, all would be lost and there would be no point doing what he was about to do.

He held the safety pin in a caressing manner, as he tap-tap-tapped his finger against the point, tapping it harsher and faster as blood beads began to bubble at each tap.

Taichi glanced up, making sure that Yamato was still lying prone on his bed

_(wasn't his arm tucked beneath him, before?)_

before he turned around so that he was facing the wall. He'd never done this before with another person in the room. Didn't know if the experience would be any different... he wondered if maybe perhaps it would be more exciting – like when those couples would have sex in public places because there was always that worry about being caught.

He rolled up his shirt to expose his stomach, and did his best to make as little noise as possible

&&&

Yamato opened an eye to stare again as the boy across from him shifted his position. Now he wouldn't be caught – blue eyes wide, face drawn of color – looking at the brunette. What was his name? Taichi?

Hair-boy's head fell backwards suddenly, and he thrust his torso forward violently; Yamato could see the boy's entire body shaking with effort. He considered just watching, but as Taichi began to rock back and forth, simpering, he couldn't help himself.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Taichi stiffened, every muscle in his back seemingly twitching as he held himself back from just running out of the room or at the very least panicking. He turned his head parallel with his shoulders, glaring at Yamato from the corner of his eyes, "Same thing as you. Making myself pretty."

Yamato glared, standing up, fists clenched as he began to baby step towards the other boy. The nerve of this insipid boy, this child, this...this... _idiot_. How dare he judge Yamato, how dare he assume anything, how dare he talk down to _him_.

"It's nearly lunch time, don't you think Daisuke won't come back here to get us?" Taichi said, breath coming out low and uneven.

"What did you do?"

"Anorexic or bulimic? Probably anorexic, bulimics are usually still kind of chunky when they get in here. That, and you most definitely have the attitude."

Taichi stood up, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. Yamato quirked an eyebrow at what he

_(thought he)_

saw.

"Disgusting cutter," Yamato hissed, arms shaking as he clenched his fists impossibly harder. "Weak. Cut yourself open to make the pain go away, fucking brilliant."

Taichi took another step closer, so that they were nearly nose to nose, and Yamato only pushed back so that their foreheads were pressed together.

"Begging for attention, aren't you? You're not a real self-destructor, oh no, you only _pretend_ that you hate yourself. It's all the rage now, isn't it? Cutting yourself. Oh so sad, my life is horrible, see, see? Pity. Me." Yamato's eyes burned with every word, breath constricting horribly tight.

Taichi moved, and Yamato flinched expecting a pummeling to the side of his face. His arm came up to block the impending blow, his eyes closed in a grimace. He had merely accepted it.

Accepted getting his ass beat once again.

Instead, he got a soft kiss on the lips.

It lasted only a second, but that was all it took for Yamato's mind to shut down. Eyes wide, he watched in a somewhat fascinated state of horror as Taichi drew back and smiled a giga-watt grin. "Like I said before, you're not as beautiful as you think you are."

Yamato blinked, "What?" he managed to bite out, although his voice cracked like it did when he was prepubescent and woke up in the middle of the night with achingly blue balls.

"Daisuke's scary when he's mad, so we'd better go. C'mon!" Taichi ran past Yamato and out the door, leaving him standing in the middle of a ruined Leggo empire.

* * *

A/N: sorry for such the long wait, I got caught up in school work and (surprisingly) a life! But, I'll try to not make the wait so long for next time. Please leave comments, they make me all warm and fuzzy inside! 


	5. Chapter 5: Middle of Nowhere

Manorexic  
By: Holly Rose E.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: no own.  
Author's Note: I am so sorry that this took so long for me to get out! Hopefully they won't always take this long, I just had a lot of stuff going on in my life but now everything's fine again so... yay for more chapters to come soon!  
THANK YOU'S: JyouraKoumi, Tamika DanarDraco, InfynitiStar, Growing Pain, Sovereign of Silence3, DieChan, and Mrs.Ishida-to-you! I love all of you! Free lollipops for everyone!

* * *

Chapter Five: Middle of Nowhere  
They chewed me up and then they spit me out  
And I'm not supposed to let it bother me  
_Hot Hot Heat_

He figured this place was supposed to be their mock-paradise, ridiculing the inmates even more so for being trapped here. But even so, even with high white brick walls on every side of him, he felt the most free he had all day long. The trees were tall, with abnormally broad leaves, offering plenty of shade to rest in. He even supposed he thought he had spied a rabbit at some point in time, dashing into the bushes where he supposed it made its comfortable little home.

He sat down gently on the ground, sitting always seemed to be a tricky sort of deals nowadays. His butt couldn't really handle being sat upon something, unless there was a thick cushion... but most of the time, no cushions were thick enough to really give him a comforting resting place.

Avoiding Taichi had been proving a tougher task than he had originally assumed it would be. The boy always seemed to know exactly where he was and precisely what he was doing. It was very unnerving. Aggravating at first – lord, had it been aggravating – he'd now come to rely on being found whenever he wanted to be lost. He was being refused that luxury, and was almost becoming dependent on their little game to get through the days.

However, last night...

_(get off me, get the fuck off of me!)_

_(you don't know)_

_(it hurts... I can't even feel it.. anymore)_

_(leave me. leave me alone. alone. leave... leave me...)_

Last night hadn't gone well, and Yamato didn't know where in the world they had dragged Taichi off to. Even more disturbing, Daisuke hadn't been around much so far today either. Usually he couldn't escape either one of their clutches but today something had settled in the air around him. Something that made him glance over his shoulder nervously and peak his eyes aimlessly around but forever seeking... looking for something that would give him a clue as to why he felt so restless.

"Yamato?"

His head jerked up, Kyoko was standing before him with her pleasant smile and hair falling about her shoulders in a slight bounce. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he looked at her waiting for her to continue. She did, but only after she fidgeted for a while nervously.

Sitting next to him, she drew her knees to her chest and twirled the half-dead grass between her fingers. "Yamato..." she said again, placing a gentle hand upon his stretched out knee, "Do you want to talk about last night?"

Inwardly, he jerked. He supposed he knew some dolt would dare ask him about last night, but he didn't think it would have been Kyoko. Yes, she was a bumbling airhead, but she tended to mind her own business and not get involved too deeply in the affairs of the patients.

He brooded in silence next to her, glaring ruefully at the hand on his leg. Once she noticed he was staring at it, she slowly, tentatively, withdrew her hand and placed it upon her lap, cupping her hands together serenely.

"Yamato... you should know... Taichi has these fairly frequently..."

He snorted mockingly, and she flew her arms about even more nervously before wringing her hands together. "I just don't want you to blame yourself or anything for his little episode, most of the time they're not... really spurred on by any particular event. They happen randomly..." She faltered, unsure of herself and how her words were affecting him, if they even penetrated the heavy brow of his.

"KYOKO!"

A foaming Akira ran up hurriedly towards Kyoko, waving his Pooh Bear around wildly with both hands. "The cheese giants are coming, Kyoko, hurry hurry! Don't let the Cheddars get you! OH GOD!" He looked fearfully behind him before he dived to the ground and shuddered dramatically.

Kyoko gave Yamato a look of sincere apologies and frustrations, but she hurried over to Akira, crouching down below beside him and half-played along, half-tried to get him to recover.

The corridors were shorter than they had first appeared, when he had been wheel-chaired down them. He'd found out the picture that had effected him so greatly had actually been drawn by Daisuke – who, in all rights, was actually a fantastic artist though the boy was always hesitant about showing his pictures.

He thought about last night and what had happened. The more he pondered over it, the less he understood it. He hadn't meant anything by what he said, they had both been joking around, he thought it would be all right. _Assumptions really should never be said aloud_, he decided. _Nah, fuck that, at least some sort of entertainment comes from them_.

He was sure when he saw Sora later on that day, she would try to make him feel guilty for what had happened. But... Yamato had decided long ago he was past remorse, he was past feeling.

_(don't you ever get hungry?)_

_(I don't know what hunger is)_

_(how can you not feel hunger?)_

_(I forgot how to feel)_

His steps were becoming shaky. He placed a hand upon the wall and traced the contours of the cracks and imperfections. He placed his other hand upon his stomach and felt its concave hollowness. Fingers traced over ribs, counting them up and down and up and down, they never seemed to end. But his pride and joy – his hipbones. His prominent, razor sharp hipbones could put any supermodel to shame.

Lolling his head back, he stopped in the hallway and rested, leaning against the wall for support before sinking down slowly to rock on the balls of his feet and placed his head into his hands.

&&&

Alone.

Again.

Slam.

Pain.

The left side of Taichi's body was beginning to get sore; more than one large bruise had decided to pop up. He was slamming into the very slightly padded wall of the solitary cell. This was normal routine, though he didn't normally continue for so long at a stretch.

Slam.

It was like a countdown, the steady staccato to help him get through the day until he can finally go to sleep. He could finally rest and say, _I'm done for real this time_, and no one would ever know what had happened.

Slam.

They'd thought he was sleeping when they first viewed his face that day. They later knew he'd done so much more. Terrified, he imagine they had recoiled in horror as they touched his body to try and wake him up, but his eyes never fluttered open. He was as good as dead, well, would have been. But his sister always cared too much for her own good.

Slam.

Withdrawals from pills and razorblades and the reliant hurt had nearly driven him nuts the first few days. He would do anything to feel the sting. He would bang his head on the wall, scrape away the skin of his forearm with an overgrown fingernail, and bite at his tongue and insides of his cheeks until his mouth was filled with blood.

Slam.

It got better, as they say everything does. He eventually got used to the monotony, of not always being used physically and abused mentally. But then something happened. A too-thin pretty boy had disrupted all of his days.

Slam.

Got too close, is what he did. Taichi was sure it was his own fault, though, of course. He pushed Yamato too far and made him snap and say those things. Say those awful raping things.

Slam.

He wanted to be burnt alive, just so he could say that he was dying and he could feel it. Could feel his life slip away just as his skin would slip from his body. As his eyeballs would melt and his toes curl involuntarily.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

He wanted out, to say that he was sorry. That he had driven Yamato to hating him already, to make him say those things to Taichi. That he was sorry; that he was so goddamned sorry.

Slam.

&&&

please review! it's what keeps me going:p


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